


leave this house and i’ll burn it down along with myself

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Child Abuse, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Possessiveness, Riding, and self destruction maybe, finger-fucking, flowercrown!louis, needy!Louis, punk!harry, slight themes of depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-15 07:42:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/847023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So I’m simply your guest, am I?” Louis asks, before leaning up and kissing Harry.</p><p>“Nope. You’re not,” Harry mumbles into his mouth, and he tries to ignore how Louis’ body arches against his, “you’re not even my living partner. You’re the princess I captured and now I’m going to keep you here, in the forest, all for myself.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	leave this house and i’ll burn it down along with myself

**Author's Note:**

> um. this came out how i envisioned it but not how i wanted it, if that makes sense?  
> i hope you like it, anyways.

“Please leave him,” Harry whispers into Louis’ neck, taking Louis’ much smaller hands in his own and gripping their fingers tight.

Louis sinks back into his chest, body trembling lightly, and he twists his neck slightly to meet Harry’s eyes, dark and angry and protective. He smiles softly, reaching up and cupping Harry’s warm cheek in his cold hand. Harry leans into the touch, eyes closing and lips parting slightly as he hums out in content.

“You know I can’t” he whispers back, and he tenses when Harry’s eyes open, darker than before.

“I’m sorry…” he squeaks, flinching back and Harry’s body slackens, eyes widening.

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, um, scare you.” He pulls Louis back into his lap, nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck and inhaling the idle scent of freesias. He then blinks up at Louis, mouth curving into his normal, lazy smirk.

“What do you wanna do?”

Louis blinks at him once, before looking up at the ceiling of the cabin. “Isn’t there a field near here?”

Harry nods, pulling away from Louis and standing. He then holds a hand out for Louis, and the older boy grips it lightly, letting Harry pull him up. “You want to go?”

Louis nods, his steps moving in sync with Harry’s as they make their way to the door. “Please.”

~

Harry tries not to stare too hard, but Louis’ literally breathtaking and Harry feels a bit cliché but it’s true in every sense of the word.

It’s not raining, which is pretty rare for the part of the forest that Harry’s cabin resides in. Instead, it’s bright and sunny, the sunlight streaming through the tall, one hundred year old pines trees and casting down onto the flower-filled clearing Harry and Louis are currently at.

Harry’s eyes watch as Louis steps gently between the tulips and heads to the daisies, his blue eyes bright and happy and more alive than Harry’s seen them recently. He plops onto a spot of green grass, crossing his legs and begins to lean into the flowers, like he’s contemplating on how to form a bouquet.

“Want me to make you something?” Harry calls out, and Louis looks at him dubiously.

“The tattooed rebel knows flower handiwork?” he answers with an accompanied laugh, and Harry frowns mockingly.

“I’ll make the best damn daisy chain you’ve ever seen.” He heads over to where Louis is sitting, gently plucking some flowers from the bottom of the stem and placing them on his lap. Louis folds his little hands together, leaning forward, watching as Harry furrows his brows in that way he does when he needs to concentrate and how his long fingers keep getting stuck in the knots he ties. Louis giggles as Harry grumbles, accidentally ripping some petals off and he rolls his eyes as Louis leans over and sticks a dandelion in his upward bangs.

“Pretty,” Louis coos and Harry looks at him, picking a freesia from behind himself and arranging it behind Louis’ nymph-like ear.

“Prettier. The prettiest,” he amends, and Louis’ cheeks pink.

He turns back to the messy tangle of flowers on his lap and stifles a groan. Louis snickers as he reaches over and grabs the pile from Harry’s lap, pulling them close to him.

“This isn’t a daisy chain, babe,” he says, and Harry watches with much more fascination than he’d like to admit as Louis’ dainty little hands begin to fix the flowers, tugging off the mangled petals and carefully knotting the stems together. As he does it, he hums under his breath, and Harry tries to figure out the tune but before he can Louis’ startling him and sitting up quickly, laughing.

“Look.”

Harry looks at the circle of flowers he’s holding and takes it from him. “Nicely done, Tomlinson.” He wraps an arm around Louis and pulls him close to his chest, placing the flower crown on the smaller boys head. Louis gasps quietly, before pulling back and adjusting it on himself. Harry looks him over and his breath nearly catches in his throat.

The light is bright and catching on all sharp edges of Louis’ structured face, making his skin a lovely shade of tan. His eyes are closed as he runs his fingers along the contours of the flowers in his hair and his lashes fan across the upper jut of his cheekbones. He shifts so he’s on his knees and he looks so pretty and vulnerable that Harry just wants to push him down and take him right then and there. Before he could do anything, though, Louis’ gasping.

“Harry, Harry, we’ve gotta go now,” he says, his voice suddenly shaky and he stands up quickly, motioning for Harry to do the same thing and Harry does, standing and running behind Louis quickly, who’s suddenly dashing back to Harry’s cabin like mad.

“I can’t believe we forgot the time, the time,” he cries, stopping abruptly in front of Harry’s black range rover. “He’s gonna be so mad, dad, Harry…”

Harry slows down to a jog as he nears Louis, reaching his arms out and pressing Louis to the passenger door of the large black car, hinging his head down and looking Louis in the eyes. “Don’t go back, then, babe. He’s crazy and you’re going to get hurt and,” he breaks off, catching his breath, “and how do you expect me to live with that? Sitting here alone, while knowing that you’re being beaten by your crazy father.”

Louis reaches his hands back and holds the car as grip while he stands on his tiptoes, bringing his lips to Harry’s and kissing him. Harry immediately kisses back, their lips fitting together correctly and hard breathing coming to a halt.

They stay like that for a while, until Louis pulls back and places his head onto Harry’s chest, wrapping his shaking arms around the younger boys waist.

“Soon, Harry, I promise.”

He says it quietly, voice trembling and Harry kisses the crown of his head, tangling the flowers into his thin hair so they won’t fall out.

“Tomorrow I’ll come back like usual and we’ll do what you want.” He cranes his neck to look up at Harry with a sad smile, and Harry nods. “And maybe I’ll teach you how to make flower crowns.”

Harry smiles at that. “Yeah, I’d like that. I wanna make a lot for you. You look so pretty in them.”

Louis blushes, biting his lip coyly. “So good with your words, Styles, aren’t you?”

Harry just chuckles, opening the door for Louis and when Louis climbs in his bum is wiggling in front of Harry’s face and Harry won’t ever give up a chance to smack it so he does, lightly, and Louis’ foot comes out and pushes his chest and they’re laughing.

“Hurry up, princess,” Harry says as Louis settles in his seat, and Louis glares at him mockingly.

“I am not a princess, dear Harold, I am your majesty.” He places his hand on his chest, mouth in a pout as he flutters his lashes and Harry kisses his cheek because he’s cute and he loves him.

“Of course,” he answers as he gets into his own seat, reaching behind himself for the belt. “But ‘m still gonna call you my Princess.”

Louis pouts again, but underneath his fringe and the flower petals nearly covering his eyelids, Harry can see his eyes twinkle with happiness.

~

The problem is, is that the next day isn’t like usual.

Harry dropped Louis off the day before, sighing as Louis’ body became stiff while he climbed out of the car. He had kissed Harry once before waving at him and going into the small bungalow he lived in with his father.

Harry knew that Louis’ father was an alcoholic and was abusive, that was why Louis’ mother and sisters had moved away. What he didn’t know was why Louis stayed with his dad. Harry would always have Louis climb into his car, day after day, with fresh bruises and light blood splatters he wasn’t able to wash out of his clothes on his body, and he would always look weak and tired and defeated. Harry always asked him to stop going back home; to just fucking _stay_ with Harry, safe and cared for but Louis would always say no and Harry was confused. But he took it; this routine, this _‘usual’_ routine, picking Louis up in pieces and sending him back home, happy and full, and then repeating the pattern over.

But the next day wasn’t like usual.

~

“You want _another?”_ Liam asks him as he steps into the tattoo parlour a couple of hours before he goes to pick Louis up. He smiles, ruffling his hair and closing the door.

“That’s right, Sparkes; and you’re gonna have to give it to me, whether you like it or not.” He walks up to the counter, smirking and the older man rolls his eyes.

“I don’t know about that, Harry.”

“Please?” Harry makes a pout, quirking up a thick, pierced eyebrow and knotting his hands together. “This one is really important to me.”

Liam sighs. “What is it?”

Harry stands up straight, placing his elbows on the counter like a mannered man. “Well-“

He’s cut off when his phone rings, buzzing against his thigh in his tight pocket. He purses his lips, deciding to ignore it.

“Today, I want…” he trails off as his phone rings again, and he holds a finger up at Liam, indicating _‘just a moment, please’_ before digging it out of his pocket and swiping his thumb across the screen.

“Hello, I don’t care, thank you,” he grumbles. If it’s some telemarketing company, he really doesn’t care. If it’s his friends, then they’re probably used to him answering the phone like that. If it’sfamily, they probably also understand.

But it’s Louis. And Louis’ never called Harry, so he doesn’t know that this answer is normal for Harry.

“O-oh, okay, um, okay, I’ll call la-later, yeah-“ he stutters through the receiver and Harry’s mind reels as he gasps.

“No-No! Louis, no, I was joking, what is it, babe?” he rushes out, glancing out the window of the parlour. It’s raining like hell and the wind is whipping a poor ladies hair around her face as she stumbles into the café across the street.

“Oh, oh, okay, um. Well, Harry, I w-was wondering if I could live with y-you now.”

Harry slumps against the counter. “What…? Louis, where are you?”

“I-in front of your cabin, um, kind of, ha ha…? Surprise. Um, the payphone in front of your place.”

Harry’s face pales as he wonders how cold it must be in the forest now and how hard it’s raining now and how Louis is probably wearing those ratty jeans and dirty, scuffed Vans and that thin t-shirt he always wears and he’s standing up and dashing out of the shop like a mad man, screaming into his phone, nearly.

“Stay! Stay there! No, no, don’t stay there, go under the cabin, you know, under the porch! Babe, please just get out of the rain but wait for me, okay?”

“Yes, ye-yes,” and Harry’s going to cry because Louis’ teeth are chattering and the only reason he’d be at Harry’s place now is because he’s been beaten beyond what he can handle and that means he’s cold and soaked and bleeding and hurt and Harry’s soaking now, too, as he nearly crashes into his car, reaching out blindly in the downpour to grab the handle and fling the door open and get inside and he doesn’t know how but he’s suddenly driving, chanting prayers even though people would usually call him a punk that doesn’t really believe in God.

~

Louis’ sitting under the porch and it’s late afternoon now, and it’s raining harder now as Harry pulls into the dirt driveway of the cabin and he nearly falls out of the car after closing the ignition, slamming the door shut and pulling his black coat off his body and running to Louis, who’s wet to the bone and pale and kind of blue and his face is white as he looks up at Harry, and Harry can nearly tell what’s rain and what’s tear streaking his hollow cheeks.

“’m so sorry, Haz, really,” he whispers as Harry wraps the heavy jacket around his trembling shoulders and Harry bundles him up in his arms, holding him up as he unlocks the door to the large and warm cabin, leading them in and he helps Louis sit on the couch near the foyer, not caring about anything being destroyed because Louis looks destroyed and nothing really matters after Louis so.

“Please don’t be,” he pleads, reaching up trying to soak some of the rain water off his body with the coat. When it doesn’t work, he bends down and kisses Louis’ knee.

“Wait here, I’m going to get towels and clothes.”

Louis nods, a soft smile on his lips and an empty look in his eyes. Harry ruffles his hair uncertainly once before heading down the hall and to the staircase.

~

Louis’ tucked underneath Harry’s arm an hour later, quiet and dry and Harry’s absentmindedly running a hand through his hair, humming and Louis feels warm against him and he should be thinking about asking him _what’s wrong what happened_ but he’s thinking of something else entirely and he really shouldn’t be thinking of it but Louis’ only wearing one of Harry’s shirts and some briefs and they’ve never went all the way and now that Louis’ going to live with Harry they might but he snaps out of it and looks down at Louis.

“Love…?” he whispers and Louis looks up, eyes drowsy.

“Mmm?”

Harry hesitates for a while, chewing on his bottom lip before glancing at their entwined hands. “What happened?”

Louis smiles, face nearly sleep-sedated.

“I couldn’t take it. It finally hit me; why was I living with him when I could be living with…” he leans up and kisses Harry’s cheek, before mumbling against his pale skin, “you?”

Harry’s eyes squeeze together, and he nods, turning his head and kissing Louis’ lips. Louis kisses back sweetly, knotting his hands into Harry’s loose white shirt before breaking away suddenly.

“What’s that?” he asks, peering over Harry’s shoulder and into the dining room. Harry looks back and smiles.

“That,” he says, standing and pulling Louis up from the sofa to the dinette, “is a flower crown, made by yours truly.” He walks them to the table and lifts the bunch of flowers off the clean tabletop, walking over to Louis and placing it on his head. “What do you think?”

Louis looks up as Harry adjusts it on the crown of his hair, shuffling the leaves out of his eyes and he looks out the window to his reflection. It’s still raining like mad hell but he can see himself in the glass, and his hands come up to knot near the collar of his shirt.

“It’s… it’s beautiful, Harry…” he mumbles, and it _is,_ each flower perfectly meshed in with the others and little vines sticking out here and there, like Harry stayed up for a long time to make it just right and the younger boy is beaming from ear to ear, hands clasped together and left thumb rubbing at the multiple tattoos littering his wrist.

“’m glad you like it,” he says back, eyes filled with way too much happiness from a little compliment. He doesn’t care, though.

Louis looks down at his feet and reaches up to adjust it on his head once more, before extending his hand out for Harry, and Harry takes it, gripping it tight enough for it to stop trembling.

“Can we go to bed now?” Louis yawns, eyes clenching as he reaches up and rubs at them. Harry nods before moving in front of Louis and hefting him up onto the dining table. Louis gasps, steadying himself on it before looking at Harry strangely.

“You sleep on the dining table?”

Harry chuckles, turning so his back is facing Louis and he crouches down slightly, reaching his arms back. “Would you like that?”

Louis seems to understand what’s happening now, and he extends his legs until Harry grips the back of his knees. He then reaches down and wraps his arms around Harry’s neck, shuffling against Harry’s wide back until he’s comfortable. “Not really.”

Harry stands up straight and heads to the foyer, pausing at the light switch of the dining room for Louis to close the dim chandelier. “Good. Because I don’t sleep on dining tables with my guests. I don carry them to bed, though.”

Louis hums in response, thumbs brushing against Harry’s protruding collarbones. “I’m a guest, am I?”

Harry pretends to think it over as he climbs each step, before shaking his head. He can’t think of anything witty, so he stays quiet until he’s at the bedroom and he pushes the door open, waiting for Louis to climb on the bed. When he does, he closes the door and climbs on top of Louis, caging him in and pining his wrists to the bed before dipping his head down and kissing him.

“Nope. You’re not,” he mumbles into his mouth, and he tries to ignore how Louis’ body arches against his, “you’re not even my living partner. You’re the princess I captured and now I’m going to keep you here, in the forest, all for myself.”

Louis keens as Harry’s tongue licks into his mouth, and Harry lets go of his hands, bringing his down and swiping his thumb over the deep hollow of Louis’ cheeks before cradling his face in his palms to deepen the kiss. Louis lies pliant, hands quickly knotting into Harry’s hair and they keep going like this until Harry breaks back for air. He looks down at Louis, heart squeezing slightly as he sees pink cheeks and bright blue eyes and clear tan skin peeking through the wide collar of his shirt and flower mangling in his soft hair and he really, really, _really_ wants to have him, right now, feel their skin slick with sweat and see the petals drift down Louis’ head and onto his body, have Louis call out his name in pleasure but Louis’ eyes are drowsy underneath him so he rolls off the smaller boy, onto his side.

Louis hefts himself up onto one elbow, staring Harry down and letting his lips fall into a tired smile. “That wasn’t what I expected.”

Harry smiles back, bringing a hand up and stroking Louis’ jawline dumbly. “You look really tired.” He then pulls Louis down into his chest, brushing hair away from his ear and whispering, “and what you were expecting would take quite a bit of stamina, babe.”

Louis stifles a giggle, nuzzling his head down onto Harry’s chest before knotting their hands together.

“I love you, Harry,” he whispers, and as harry stares up at the wood ceiling after Louis’ fallen asleep, listening to his careful, sleep-induced breaths and to the pit-pat rhythm of the rain, he finally feels like something is right in this wrong world.

~

“What?”

Harry looks up from the pan of eggs on the stove to Louis, who’s sitting at the dinette with a cup of tea cradled in his palms, still wearing those short and tight briefs along with Harry’s shirt. the flower crown is still knotted into his hair.

Harry thinks his pants are becoming a bit too tight.

“I asked,” Harry repeats, waving his spatula at Louis, “if, after breakfast, you’d want to go to Shades Mills?”

“And _I_ said,” Louis says, looking at Harry with slightly wicked eyes, and Harry gulps, “’what’ as in, ‘what the hell is Shades Mills’?”

Harry turns back to the stove. “It’s a conservatory in the forest. It has a beach.”

Louis wrinkles his nose. “That sounds so wrong, Harry. A conservatory in the forest with a beach where it always rains.”

Harry nods. “The beach hasn’t been used, for like, sixteen years. Ever since they found out that their was an unhealthy amount of algae in the water. And the changing rooms were chockfull of mold and dead bugs.”

Louis looks up from his cup, an incredulous look on his face. “Dammit, Styles, you know where to take a person on a date, don’t you?”

Harry laughs, taking the eggs off the burner and placing them onto one that isn’t on. “That’s not exactly what I meant. There’s a nice forest around the beach, unlike this one. And picnic tables, and lots of flowers. I want to take you there.” He gives Louis a sidelong glance. “You like pretty nature.”

Louis’ face flushes, and he looks down at his hands as nonchalant as he can. “Why yes, I do.” He then pats the table. “Take me to Shades Mills, prince.”

Harry smiles, bringing Louis his plate. “You’re wish is my command, princess.”

He groans when Louis points out that that’s what genies say, not princes’. He then kisses Louis quiet.

~

Harry wishes he and Louis had stayed home, maybe with a movie or just cuddles or board games or even bed games. Anywhere but here.

It was going well, really; they had eaten breakfast, taken a shower that involved more touching each other than washing up, Louis had dressed up in some of Harry’s clothes from when he was sixteen, and they came to the conservatory, hand in hand, grateful for the quiet and deserted nature of the place. They then took advantage of it, Harry making Louis a new flower crown, placing it on his head ceremoniously and then bringing their mouths together, making out for God knows how long. Until a bunch of teenage boys came up to them, out of literally _nowhere,_ gasping and charging forward.

So. That’s how Harry ended up pushing Louis back onto a picnic table and dashing towards them.

The three boys were throwing slurs, _of course they fucking would_ , Harry thinks, ducking as the broad and tallest-seeming throws a fist near his face. He then stands up as quick as he can, pulling his own fist and connecting it with the same boys own puffy cheeks, right as a blond and gentle-looking boy’s hand comes smashing into his jaw.

He stumbles back, spitting on the ground and anger bubbling inside his stomach at the light pink blood in the saliva. The boy he hit falls back as well, garbled mumblings of ‘faggots’ and ‘disgusting’ slipping out his stupid mouth. Harry looks up just as the blond boys head turns to Louis, mouth curling up into a disgusting, snide smile.

“You look like a fucking princess,” he spits out, slowly walking towards Louis, who’s face is pale as he only looks at Harry, “letting your _boyfriend_ save you. Such a fucking girl.” He then glances at Harry. “but he probably can’t save you, to weak.”

Harry lunges at him right when the third boy, a black-haired boy with darker skin dashes towards him. He grabs the blond by the hair, eyes widening as he sees Louis leap off the table and land onto the black-haired one, wrapping his little hands around his neck and Harry blindly punches the blond in his hand, maybe a bit too hard, for as soon as he lets him go he crumples to the floor, slurring profanities at Harry.

“St-“ the black-haired one says, and Louis’ fingers tighten. Harry runs towards them, grabbing Louis by the waist and pulling him back, and Louis starts screaming, curling his nails so they scratch the boys neck as Harry grabs him away.

He falls onto his back as well when Harry’s got Louis, and they both turn around a bit dramatically to look at the first boy, who’s walking towards Harry again, nose bleeding furiously and he screams something about ‘Zayn and Niall’ before bringing his fist to Harry but Harry’s already got a punch to his chest before he can touch him and as he stumbles back Harry turns around, grabs Louis’ hand and they begin to run back into the forest, away from the conservatory and back to Harry’s cabin.

Harry takes a different route, just in case the people are following (he doesn’t think they are, really). They trample through weeds and empty clearings, breathing rough but skin cold as the freezing wind wraps them up until suddenly they’re colliding with Harry’s Range Rover, in the driveway of the cabin and they slump against it, Louis quickly straddling Harry’s hips and looking down at him worriedly, taking Harry’s bloody hands in his soft, warmer ones and squeezing them.

“Oh God, oh God, Harry,” he whispers, cradling Harry’s cheeks and Harry blinks dazedly, thinks he can still see the flowers on Louis’ head.

“C’mon, stand up,” Louis says, breathing frantic as he helps Harry up the couple of steps near the porch. He then opens the door, leaving it ajar as he watches Harry slowly make his way up the stairs before closing it and following him.

~

“Fuck.”

Louis giggles, shifting his thighs wider apart as he walks into the room, and Harry’s stomach drops as he sees that these briefs are shorter and the t-shirt is larger and the flowers are really still there and Louis looks really fuckable at the moment but Louis probably won’t let him move from the bed for a day or something.

“Watch your language, love.” He closes the door of the room, holding a round bin of water and three rags. He then places the tub onto the bedside table, shuffling onto the bed where harry is currently splayed out, in only a pair of boxers and his many tattoos.

He grabs a rag, dipping it into the water before wringing it dry and bringing it up to Harry’s forehead. Harry smiles dreamily as he places in there, smoothing it out and letting the warmth seep into his skull.

“Hrrm,” he mumbles as Louis takes his hand next, bringing a new rag down and dabbing his knuckles, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and Harry wants to stare at him being adorable in concentration but his _thighs_ are right in front of his face, literally, and it’s hard to focus on anything other than wanting to sink his teeth into the firm flesh.

He lays there for what seems like a long time, listening to Louis mix over whether to thank him or reprimand him for fighting and he just listens, his body feeling light and happy with Louis fussing over him and when Louis’ finally done wiping the blood off his face and some parts of body as well as bandaging his hands, he purses his lips stupidly for Louis to kiss. He gets a bit giddy when Louis actually does dip down and kiss him. And maybe a bit more.

His eyes open as Louis climbs on top of him, placing his hands on his firm abdomen and kissing him a bit harder, lowering his hips and pressing his- his _hard dick,_ Harry thinks blindly- against Harry’s own hardening length and tentatively grinds down onto him, breath hitching against Harry’s mouth as it happens and Harry brings his hands down to clutch and grab Louis’ arse, thumb pressing divots into the round flesh and sliding up to where it swell against next to his back. Louis gasps, pushing back into Harry’s hand and Harry lets out a groan as Louis brings his hand down and presses the heel of it onto his clothed crotch.

“Well-“ Harry lets out, pushing against Louis’ hand, “you sure aren’t one to fuck around, are you? Straight to the point.”

Louis bites his lip, grinding down a bit harder now, “I want you, Harry.”

“Good,” Harry grits out, pulling Louis down. “And I want to have you.”

Louis presses his mouth against Harry’s again, and he drops his lips open on the first poke of Harry’s tongue, quietly moaning as Harry brings his hands up and catches his face, licking in quickly, tasting the mint that Louis had while they were at the conservatory. Louis keeps grinding his hips down, taking his hands off Harry and pressing them into the bed roughly, pushing against Harry’s crotch and Harry thrusts up against him, breaking away for a second before letting Louis suck on his bottom lip, and he reaches out blindly for the side table, turning his head as Louis begins to nibble on his jaw almost desperately, their hips rocking together and he opens the top drawer, shuffling through the sheets of paper and other things in their before pulling out a bottle of lube. He ignores the condoms and closes the drawer, gripping the sheets as Louis slides their crotches together, a particularly strong shove waking Harry’s member up fully and he reaches out, taking Louis’ hips in his grip and flipping them over, waiting until Louis’ back hits the sheets and he takes both wrists in one hand then, looking down at Louis intently.

Louis smiles up at him shakily, eyes blown and Harry lets him catch his breath before speaking.

“Please, please,” he nearly whines, and Harry nods jerkily, letting go of his wrists and motioning for him to get onto his tummy. When he hesitates, Harry leans down and kisses his forehead, thumbs rubbing into his side as he whispers “please” and Louis does quickly, shuffling higher up onto the bed and placing his cheek onto the bed.

“Lift your hips.” It’s soft but it sounds like an order, one Louis quickly complies to. He hitches his upper body up on his elbows, gasping as Harry slides a pillow underneath him and he sets himself back down, his cock pushing into the pillow and he bites his knuckles as he grinds down into it, thrusting into the plush for some friction, whining when Harry holds him still.

“Then, then-“ he pants, “hurry it up, please, Harry, I-“

He falls silent, only noise coming out of him his breathing as Harry tugs his underwear down, right to the middle of his thighs. Harry opens the bottle in his hand, eyes wide as they take in the smooth expanse of his arse, the nearly tan colour of it to the rest of his body and leans down, kissing one cheek and dropping the lube. He shifts back a bit, opening Louis’ legs out a bit and settling between them as comfortably as he can, bringing his shaky hand down and spreading them apart, breath hitting Louis’ hole accidentally as the clenching muscle is revealed. Louis whines again, body wracking a slight shiver and he looks down at Harry as best he can, reaching back and grappling at the crown of his curly head.

“Harry…”

Harry looks up, sitting back on his haunches and smiling softly. “Yeah, sorry.” He reaches for the bottle again, reopening it and letting some out. “You’re quite needy, aren’t you?”

Louis blushes, and Harry chuckles, kissing his left bum cheek again. “It’s not embarrassing, love, don’t worry.”

Louis grips the sheets, before looking at Harry again. “But, it’s just, I’m always so reliant on you, and I don’t want that.”

Harry frowns. “Is this why you did that to the guy at the beach?”

Louis nods, turning his head and pushing into the pillow.

Harry leans down, kissing his neck. “Lou, please don’t say that, yeah? I want you to rely on me all you want. Personally, I feel like it gives me worth.”

Louis groans. “Harry, you have worth even without me.”

Harry nods against his neck, bringing his slick hand down to his arse. “Tell me you won’t hold back. I don’t want you to be something you’re not. I absolutely hate that.”

Louis looks back at him, the apple of his cheeks pink and eyes wide and vulnerable and he nods. “Yes, Harry.”

Harry smiles, leaning back before Louis’ hand comes reaching out and grabs his wrist. He looks back at him questioningly.

“Just…” he mumbles, face flushed a deep red, “can you call me yours? Like, only for now, or something.”

Harry’s stomach feels hot and so do his cheeks. “Yeah, yes, of course.” He pauses. “But you _do_ now you actually are mine and mine only, right?”

Louis gasps, looking back at Harry. “Yes-er, yes, I do, it’s just, I like hearing you, urm, say it.”

Louis presses back into the pillow and Harry looks down at his arse, spreading the cheeks apart and bringing his finger to his hole. He slowly presses the tip against the rim, sliding it through the resistance as Louis’ body nearly slackens.

“You okay?” he asks, leaning up to hover over Louis’ body, using one arm to brace himself over the smaller boy. Louis nods almost breathlessly and Harry begins to drag that finger in and out, slowly and when Louis begins to pant a bit, he withdraws it and tucks two back into him, and Louis cries out, pushing his hips down into the pillow. Harry leans down, begins to kiss the back of his neck again as he continues to fuck his fingers into Louis, moving a little faster and Louis pushes back against them before he clutches the sheets and humps the pillow, saliva leaking out of his mouth and all over the pillow. He tugs his back to motion for _more_ and Harry scissors them inside, crooking them as well and Louis’ moan came out smushed against the pillow, nearly moving his hips in a grinding motion onto the fingers and Harry lets him continue to hump the pillow underneath his cock, leaning down as he thrusts his fingers back in roughly, stretching them apart from each other, licking up Louis’ lightly sweating neck before leaning to his ear and whispering, “such an eager little princess.”

Louis keens, high in the back of his throat as Harry tucks three fingers back inside him, moving them roughly and he continues to grind into the pillow, shuddering until Harry’s hitting a spot inside him that feels good, really good and he pushes back forcefully, chanting “I want you now, Harry,” twice and Harry scissors his fingers once more, his cock twitching as Louis’ plaint body takes it and he withdraws them, wiping them on the sheets beside Louis’ hip.

“What do you want?” he asks, trying to keep his voice from cracking and Louis looks up at him, rolling onto his back numbly. Harry sits back and Louis sits up as well, patting the bed beside himself. “Could you get on your back?”

Harry feels a spike of arousal as he shuffles down, settling his head into a comfortable position on the pillows. He leaves his arms beside himself as he watches Louis move to straddle his narrow hips, his briefs lying on the floor beside Harry’s discarded boxers and he takes Harry’s cock in one small hand. Harry nearly groans at the sight; his dick hard and lenient and dark, Louis’ small hand barely covering the shaft and it’s suck a contrast and he’s gasping as Louis presses the blunt head to his clenching hole.

“Lou, Lou,” he whispers, grabbing his hips, “ease yourself, okay love?”

Louis nods, the prettiest little noises dropping out his slightly parted lips as he sinks down onto Harry, taking him in inch by inch and Harry tries his best to help him out but it’s hard because he’s so tight and _hot_ so he feels like he’s nearly losing his mind but then Louis’ fully seated on him, his arse sitting against his pelvis and he looks up at Louis, gripping his arms and the large t-shirt is slacking off one shoulder and his thighs look so pretty, folded up like that and his face is flush, eyes half-lidded and lips parted in pleasure and _the flower crown_ is still fucking there and Harry’s really, really hard now and he reaches out for Louis’ hips, gripping them and helping Louis hitch up.

Louis moves his hands from Harry’s arms to his shoulders, gripping them tightly as he pushes back down, panting roughly and he already looks thoroughly fucked-out and Harry lets him go, folding his arms behind his head and looking up at Louis with blown eyes.

“Show me how good you can make me feel, princess,” he grits out as Louis begins to move in a pace, moving his hips smoother, moving up to his knees until only the head is inside before thrusting back down and he’s making quiet noises that hitch in his throat each time Harry nudges against his prostate and he looks at Harry with furrowed brows, a slack mouth and whispers, “can’t keep- keep quiet,” and Harry’s breath punches out as he begins to fuck himself down on his cock, moaning prettily and he feels so tight around Harry, so smooth and velvety and it’s like he’s sucking Harry in with each push, until he’s fully riding Harry, no more fucking around as he slightly bounces on top of him, and Harry’s eyes are probably blown out madly as he fumbles around his waist, lightly thumbing his waist and whispering, “yes, princess, just like that,” and Louis looks so pleased that Harry is pleased and it makes it all the more better.

He looks at Harry with hazy eyes, and Harry notices that his thighs are trembling slightly. He takes a hand off his hip and reaches up to his cheek, letting Louis lean into the touch. “Are you tired?”

Louis makes a small mewl at that, and Harry moans as he clenches around him. He grips Louis’ waist again, and Louis is pliant as he lets Harry bring him down and tuck him into his chest. He then moans as Harry’s cock pushes inside him further as Harry slowly hefts himself up into a sitting position, pressing his back to the headboard and letting Louis wrap his arms around his neck.

“Better?” he asks, and Louis nods, tucking his face into the sweaty curve of Harry’s neck before continuing with his movements, rotating his hips and then grinding down onto Harry. Harry’s breathing becomes tight as Louis rocks onto him, mouthing at his neck before sucking on it harshly and Harry holds Louis tighter, whispering “let go, princess,” and when Louis becomes pliant Harry steadies himself before digging the heels of his feet into the mattress and fucking up into his slack body, pushing his hips up brutally and Louis grips his neck tighter, the moans and cries he lets out falling right near Harry’s ear and Harry thinks that Louis will probably drive him fucking crazy one day and he loves him so much but his mind is consumed with _taketaketake take till there’s nothing left for him to give to anyone else ever_ and he tries his best to do just that, thrusting up harder and harder until Louis’ begging him for something though they both aren’t sure what and Harry takes Louis’ cock in his hand, begins to stroke it and Louis’ shuddering against the hard planes of his chest, whispering _I love you thank you Harry make me yours_ and Harry feels like it’s all too much and his hips stutter before he quickly returns back to his pace and he feels that since this was their first time he _could_ have went sweet and slow, their bodies rocking together as they kiss each other sweetly but Harry’s always known that underneath his desire to keep Louis happy and make him feel soft and comfortable  he’s wanted to _wreck_ him, just like nearly everyone else that Louis’ ever met, wants to partake in his pretty destruction and his eyes open wildly and he shouts, pumping Louis’ cock sloppily and finding Louis’ lips blindly as he comes inside him, hot and pulsing and Louis’ body trembles harshly in his lap as he comes as well, Harry’s hand on his cock and the feeling of Harry coming inside him pushing him over the edge entirely.

He slumps down uselessly against Harry’s slick, sweaty chest, the flowers in his hair drooping and tangled up, shirt sliding down to his bicep. He kisses Harry’s chest softly, slowly and Harry wipes his hand on the pillow reluctantly before wrapping his arms around Louis.

“Harry, feel so good,” he slurs and Harry kisses his sweaty forehead, pulling him closer to his chest.

“That’s good, princess, I’m glad.” He closes his eyes. “I love you, Lou.”

Louis looks up at him lazily. “I love you too.”

Harry looks into Louis’ eyes. “You’re mine, Lou.”

This time Louis holds onto Harry tighter, kissing his chest. “I am. All yours.”

Harry sinks down into the sheets, looking out the window, when Louis falls asleep that night, curled in on himself, naked except for that shirt and sticky. Harry lets it go, though, lying in bed beside him, eyes heavy as he yawns. He then glances at Louis.

“Goodnight, princess.”

_~end_


End file.
